


Kissing Colors

by EmeraldSage



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Adorable Dogs, And Of Course - Freeform, Boys Kissing, Dogs, Germany's Just a little Jealous, Germerica - Freeform, Historical References, Kissing, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses, One-Sided RusAme, The Princess Bride References, Yes this again, and gilbert, and laughing, gerame - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 09:53:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10511361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldSage/pseuds/EmeraldSage
Summary: The rays catches on blond - amber gold and pale buttercup - but even the radiance of the sun can't compare to all the shades of blue he sees in his lover's eyes as they kiss.  Sometimes, he wonders if he can see the world looking through them.  And then, he kisses the thought from his mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For @gerame who wanted GerAme kissing. I have no idea why this came out the way it did, but the writing deities were watching out for me ^^! Hope you enjoy, hun! And to the rest of you, if you liked it - welcome to rare pair hell, lovelies!

            There was a soft pressure against his side, and it was becoming more and more noticeable as the brush of dawn’s light chased sleep from his body. He felt the lingering caress of his exhaustion fade to an early morning lethargy, his body slowly warming and waking from its blissful rest. The pressure against his side shifted, not restless but not content in its position, and he felt his consciousness rise to the surface.

            His spatial awareness came in waves, but so close to waking, it was undeniable. Sound came to him first. There was a mostly unsurprising stillness in his room – natural of course, there wasn’t much in his room that made noise this early. He could hear nothing from silence from down the stairs, which meant the dogs were probably still snoozing, enjoying a lie in as the sun rose. The wind whistled and the birds chirped cheerily from outside, unusually crisp and audible, but it was a soothing sound, so he moved away from pondering the oddness. There was, however, a distinct sound of breathing – deep, soothing, and unmistakably asleep – near his ear. The softness of breath collided with his neck, and he realized whomever it was snuggled against his side was nuzzling him.

            Feeling swept him next. The softness of the bed sheets let him relax into the familiarity, and the quilt wrapped around him provided warmth in the barely noticeable Spring chill he could feel pervading his room. There was someone snuggled against his side, a warm, wonderful presence under the quilt and covers, skin to skin with barely any clothing parting him. Hair tickled his face and neck, and he felt the weight of an arm tossed around him, and of a pair of legs entwined with his that hadn’t been there the night before.

            The scents of his room hit him after that – the cleanliness of the room, a clean laundry and fresh pine scent that was overlaid with a hint of soap. The crispness of fresh rain and dewy grass wove its way into his senses, and he realized he must’ve left the window open the night before. There was another scent as well, a familiar one despite its unusual presence; the heavy electric scent of a storm on the horizon melded with the sharpness of untouched woodlands and salty shores flooded his nose. Another breath and he could scent out the underlying scents: the leathery hint, the cheap deodorant, and most obvious of all…the warm scent of fast food.

            His lips curled into a smile, even before he’d opened his eyes.

            “Good morning,” a hoarse voice spoke sleepily, as he blinked into wakefulness. The room was dimly lit by the rising dawn, and right under the glow of the window, it was impossible to miss the radiant glow the sun gave his lover.

            Those blue eyes gazed at him, uncovered by their traditional frames, piercing and beautiful and _powerful_ , and everything that had enticed him to seduce a rising superpower into his arms and _more_.

            “Guten Morgen,” he murmured back, voice as hoarse and husky from just waking as his lover’s was. Alfred’s eyes warmed lovingly and the other stretched against him, melding their bodies together impossibly close. He wrapped a strong arm around the other nation’s waist, shifting so they were laying wrapped together, face to face. Alfred shifted, throwing a leg over his own possessively, even as Ludwig brought them together, flush against each other, skin to skin, and pressed his lips to the other’s smiling ones.

            The first kiss was gentle, loving and undeniable in the way it bespoke the all-consuming emotion they shared for each other. They broke apart for a heartbeat, staring into each other – blue skies into alabaster blue – before Alfred grinned, pushing himself up and pressing their lips together again.

            This kiss was livelier. Fully awake now, Ludwig pulled the American close, shivering lightly when the other traced the seam of his lips with his tongue, dipping into his mouth briefly, but withdrawing just as fast, keeping the kiss chaste. Chaste but warm, and it stirred something deep in the pit of his stomach. His eyes opened – he hadn’t realized that he’d closed them – and Alfred’s eyes had darkened, the cerulean skies that reminded him of his brother’s stories of the Caribbean had suddenly deepened, until he was looking at the azure gleam of warm, coastal storms. He’d bet his own had darkened as well – shifting from their icy blue to something richer, less celestial and more sky and steel, as his lover had once pondered out loud – but he could care less at the moment.

            Their next kiss was a battle, furious and passionate and _warring_ , and he twined their bodies together, pressing the other down against the sheets in a swift movement that upset their tenuous balance. But Alfred wasn’t pliant under his touch, no; their tongues danced together, mouths moving, devouring each other, and the superpower wrapped his legs around Ludwig’s waist until they were intertwined as close as they could be without joining first.

            Then, Alfred flipped them, twisting and turning the tides to his liking, like he’d always done in his affairs – the international ones, not the personal ones – and his smirking, breathless lover broke their warring kiss and panted as he settled himself atop Ludwig’s body, stretched out like a cat, a Cheshire grin on his face.

            And _oh,_ did that grin bring back memories; memories of the wars, _their_ wars, even if the rest of the world claimed them in name and memory. He remembered their wars. Remembered them well enough that he’d never forget; embedded their memories in his very skin, the land that had borne him, that _was him_. And he remembered how in both those wars, America had hovered at the edge of his senses, dallying in the periphery, watching with eyes of cerulean blended into cobalt, _waiting_ ; just there but _not_ , and it drove him nearly mad.

            And then _Russia_ had come, and had stolen that gaze from him. He’d felt his beloved’s passionate gaze _shift_. Oh, his love had never strayed from him – not that it was in his nature to judge if it _had_ ; they were nations after all, and fidelity had a meaning altogether different than most humans expected it to – but the passion in his gaze collided with the flint in those vicious violets, and he could see the fire that would ignite in the aftermath.

            Germany did not consider himself a jealous person. But if there was _one_ nation who could inspire that sharp, nauseating coil of emotion to _burn_ within his gut and churn in his veins…it was that damned Russian.

            And _oooh,_ it wasn’t _just_ because Russia had stolen his lover’s gaze, blended the azure into an indigo-navy midnight shade almost unrecognizable of his lover, and plucked his attention away from Germany as easy as one would pick a flower from a field full of them. No, he wasn’t _that_ petty…mostly. No, there were so many reasons he had to resent or dislike the then-superpower. But the reason the resentment had grown deeper, all pervasive and all consuming...and he couldn’t quite help the vile jealousy that had grown in him since then.

            There was a reason he kept separating those two from their fights during the world meetings, and it wasn’t just so that they didn’t have to replace the table each time (and the chairs, and the electric wiring, and the wallpaper, and the janitor’s psychiatric bill…good Gott, he should stop thinking about it).

            “You’re thinking too hard,” his lover informed him, lips twisting into a frown that told him the other had deemed the action unacceptable, and he felt his own lips twitch. “Stop.”

            “Mmmm, as you wish,” he murmured, pushing down the shiver when he felt the other trail a finger down his abs appreciatively, smirking at the way he’d accented his voice, knowing the other loved it like he loved his lover’s southern drawl.

            “You don’t get to say it like that,” Alfred breathed, storm tossed seas gleaming at him as his lover draped himself on top of him, pressing them together, “Like we’re watching Princess Bride. This is the totally wrong kind of atmosphere for _that_ , Lutz.”

            “Oh,” he drawled, wrapping his arms around the other and flipping them so he was the one pressing Alfred into the mattress. “But you _adore_ Westley,” he murmured directly into the other’s ear, smirking when he felt the skin heating as Alfred flushed, “I’d almost be jealous with the giant crush you have on him if I know you didn’t _love_ _it_ when we’re being romantic. Shall I vanish for years, return as a pirate captain, and snatch you away from the evil prince you’ve decided to marry whilst I was away, _Liebling_?”

            If he cast Russia as the Prince Humperdinck, there wasn’t much of a plot difference from what actually happened…much.

            As long as England, who would’ve taken the role of the former Dread Pirate Captain, never found out. Forget that his Empire years had long gone, the nation would wrest power from all corners of the globe just to come after him the moment he found out just what his relationship with America was. He’d always been just a _little_ overprotective.

            But then America was pressing up against him, sealing their lips together again, and he shoved all thoughts of England and Russia and romance out the window as the re-entered the battlefield, waging war with their mouths and their tongues, until all that remained were heavy, panting breaths that enticed a truce to be broken.

            Their next kiss was gentler, a white flag that passed between the two of them – an armistice unmistakable, a treaty to be signed and sealed with another blissful slant of their lips together – and they parted, yet again, letting the tension heavy in the air bleed away, unused. They settled side-to-side, on equal grounds, yet again, and pressed close to each other. Sweaty, the scent of arousal and warmth potent within the room, a prelude to events to come…and their eyes glowed warmly, silky azure and navy against unyielding sky and steel, settled.

            This was a blissful peace, his mind mused as they sealed their lips together once again, a chaste press of lips against each other’s as they just lay there together, letting their breath mingle and mix, taking in each other.

            Suddenly, there was a commotion outside his door, and he bolted upright, startled as he was. His lover’s delighted laughter stopped him, and he turned his attention away from the door a split second too soon.

            The dogs bowled him over, swarming him with slobbery kisses and excited barks, and he collapsed back onto his bed, his lover’s unrestrained laughter bouncing around the room and echoing pleasantly in his ears. He sighed, even as a smile curled at his lips, and caught a glimpse of his lover, who’d levered himself up to get out of the way, leaning against the wall, trying to steady himself as he was consumed by his laughter. He was barely trying to restrain himself.

            Admittedly, it was funny; it was far from the first time one of their, ah, _intimate_ sessions together had been interrupted. At least it wasn’t Gilbert who’d caught them in bed together…he’d never hear the end of it.

            “Kesesesesese~” echoed from below them, and he groaned, dropping his head against the pillow as Alfred lost the fight against his mirth, nearly toppling off the bed as he laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how it ended there. Really.


End file.
